JIMMY SMOTHERS: We may never see another one like Bisher

Published: Monday, March 19, 2012 at 6:01 a.m.

Last Modified: Monday, March 19, 2012 at 11:08 p.m.

Furman Bisher has died, and with his passing one of the nation’s greatest sports writing career has ended. He was 93 years old and had spent 59 of those years with the Atlanta Journal-Constitution.

Actually, I probably should have started this column with just two words.

“Bisher, Selah.”

That would not only have told the story, but it would have been fitting for this legendary man of the written word.

The word, Selah, was the way he ended his columns. It became his trademark, just as Finis was the trademark ending to a contemporary, the late Benny Marshall of the Birmingham News. Ordinary journalists simply use the standard editing mark -30-, which at one time told the type-setters that was the end of the article.

Bisher’s first newspaper job was in 1938 at a paper in North Carolina. He retired in 2009 but continued to write an occasional column and cover the Masters and a few other golf tournaments. He was planning to go to this year’s Masters, but started feeling ill Sunday, was carried to the hospital and just went to sleep, having suffered a heart attack.

I guess every young sports writer wanted to become another Furman Bisher, a man with a remarkable talent for writing and perhaps as knowledgeable a wordsmith as James Kilpatrick or William Safire.

He was also well respected by the people he wrote about. It was not unusual for the biggest names in the sports world to single him out at press conferences and address him as “Mr. Bisher” — although he never considered himself above others and preferred to just be called Furman.

I’ve told this story on occasion about the first time I actually met him. I’d been reading his column for years, when I could find an Atlanta paper, and I knew where he ranked among writers. To say that I was in awe of what he had accomplished is putting it mildly, which is why I was so impressed that December afternoon in 1963.

I had gone to Miami to cover Auburn and Nebraska in the 1964 Orange Bowl. That day, Auburn coach Shug Jordan had invited writers to his room to talk about the upcoming game. Bisher was one of the last to arrive, shaking hands with Jordan and a few other friends. As he started to take a seat he noticed me, stepped over and stuck out his hand.

“I’m Furman Bisher,” he said. I gave my name.

“Is this your first bowl trip?” he asked. I said it was.

“I’ve been to a few and kinda know my way around. If you need any help with anything, just ask,” he told me.

Over the years I’d see him at various sporting events, and usually would ask him something.

Once I was seated near him in the press box at Legion Field, so I watched him closely. He had a young writer with him who was typing the play by play, etc. Furman would be spending his time writing ledes to his game story. Every time the situation changed, he’d jerk that sheet of paper out of his typewriter, toss it aside, insert another and start on a new lede. In that game, he started over 13 times.

I asked him about it. He said he didn’t want to be trying to remember certain situations when the game ended, so he wrote things as they happened.

After Alabama and Auburn stopped playing Georgia Tech I didn’t see him very often at college football games. But I saw him often during the early years of the Braves in Atlanta and I’d see him every year at the Masters.

That was where I last saw him. As usual, I had a question or two.

“How you doing, Furman?”

“Getting old and crankier,” he said.

I think he was 86 at the time and everyone in the press building was amazed that he was still going strong and writing as good as ever.

“As a writer ages, should he change his writing style to appeal to the now generation?” I asked.

“No,” Bisher said. “A writer should always write things the way he sees things and feels about them. Don’t try to write to any certain group or generation.”

That was Bisher’s style, when you read his column you got a taste of Bisher. And just about every thing he wrote, it was Bisher at his finest — top quality. The profession has changed and we may never again see writers of his calibre.

Times Sports Editor Emeritus Jimmy Smothers can be reached at jmmys1@aol.com.

<p class="bold allcaps">COMMENTARY</p>
<p>Furman Bisher has died, and with his passing one of the nation's greatest sports writing career has ended. He was 93 years old and had spent 59 of those years with the Atlanta Journal-Constitution.</p><p>Actually, I probably should have started this column with just two words.</p><p>“Bisher, Selah.”</p><p>That would not only have told the story, but it would have been fitting for this legendary man of the written word.</p><p>The word, Selah, was the way he ended his columns. It became his trademark, just as Finis was the trademark ending to a contemporary, the late Benny Marshall of the Birmingham News. Ordinary journalists simply use the standard editing mark -30-, which at one time told the type-setters that was the end of the article.</p><p>Bisher's first newspaper job was in 1938 at a paper in North Carolina. He retired in 2009 but continued to write an occasional column and cover the Masters and a few other golf tournaments. He was planning to go to this year's Masters, but started feeling ill Sunday, was carried to the hospital and just went to sleep, having suffered a heart attack.</p><p>I guess every young sports writer wanted to become another Furman Bisher, a man with a remarkable talent for writing and perhaps as knowledgeable a wordsmith as James Kilpatrick or William Safire.</p><p>He was also well respected by the people he wrote about. It was not unusual for the biggest names in the sports world to single him out at press conferences and address him as “Mr. Bisher” — although he never considered himself above others and preferred to just be called Furman.</p><p>I've told this story on occasion about the first time I actually met him. I'd been reading his column for years, when I could find an Atlanta paper, and I knew where he ranked among writers. To say that I was in awe of what he had accomplished is putting it mildly, which is why I was so impressed that December afternoon in 1963.</p><p>I had gone to Miami to cover Auburn and Nebraska in the 1964 Orange Bowl. That day, Auburn coach Shug Jordan had invited writers to his room to talk about the upcoming game. Bisher was one of the last to arrive, shaking hands with Jordan and a few other friends. As he started to take a seat he noticed me, stepped over and stuck out his hand.</p><p>“I'm Furman Bisher,” he said. I gave my name.</p><p>“Is this your first bowl trip?” he asked. I said it was.</p><p>“I've been to a few and kinda know my way around. If you need any help with anything, just ask,” he told me.</p><p>Over the years I'd see him at various sporting events, and usually would ask him something. </p><p>Once I was seated near him in the press box at Legion Field, so I watched him closely. He had a young writer with him who was typing the play by play, etc. Furman would be spending his time writing ledes to his game story. Every time the situation changed, he'd jerk that sheet of paper out of his typewriter, toss it aside, insert another and start on a new lede. In that game, he started over 13 times.</p><p>I asked him about it. He said he didn't want to be trying to remember certain situations when the game ended, so he wrote things as they happened.</p><p>After Alabama and Auburn stopped playing Georgia Tech I didn't see him very often at college football games. But I saw him often during the early years of the Braves in Atlanta and I'd see him every year at the Masters.</p><p>That was where I last saw him. As usual, I had a question or two.</p><p>“How you doing, Furman?”</p><p>“Getting old and crankier,” he said. </p><p>I think he was 86 at the time and everyone in the press building was amazed that he was still going strong and writing as good as ever.</p><p>“As a writer ages, should he change his writing style to appeal to the now generation?” I asked.</p><p>“No,” Bisher said. “A writer should always write things the way he sees things and feels about them. Don't try to write to any certain group or generation.”</p><p>That was Bisher's style, when you read his column you got a taste of Bisher. And just about every thing he wrote, it was Bisher at his finest — top quality. The profession has changed and we may never again see writers of his calibre.</p>
<p class="italic font120">Times Sports Editor Emeritus Jimmy Smothers can be reached at jmmys1@aol.com.</p>